


Game Rooms

by justheretoreadhannibalfics



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Deadly escape rooms, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, Saw AU, Serial Killer Hannibal, and dangerous situations, lots of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29054817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics
Summary: Will has been keeping himself away from all the current cases, dodging Jack's requests to have him consult on the Game Master case. Will's resolve to stay away fails him when he finds himself one of the victims of the insidious escape games.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 36
Kudos: 76





	1. 1

“Good afternoon, Professor Will Graham. You have gone your entire life living in the shadows of those who deserve the limelight less. I’m giving you the chance to finally be recognized for your genius.”

Will focused his breathing, listening carefully to the voice that played through a speaker over his head. He ran his fingers over the ropes that held his hands together, recognizing the knot that had been used. He looked around himself, taking inventory of what he could see.

Will wondered if he was being watched, or if the recording had been on a timer that had been calculated to begin after he would have woken up. Whoever was doing this had thought about everything, that much was clear from the beginning.

The soft fluorescent light hummed overhead, illuminating the room in a faint glow. 

There was a table about ten feet in front of Will, and there was a paper on it. Will couldn’t see what the paper said from that distance. Around the edge of the room where Will could see, were six small safes with combination locks. They started about eight feet in front of him and to the left, and turned the corner, making it so there were three on the side wall and three on the back wall. The table was positioned in the center among them.

“As you can see, there are six safes in the room with you. There is also a table holding a paper with six combinations written on it. There is a clock behind you, counting down from two hours starting the moment you stand up. One safe contains the key to stop the timer. If you fail, and the timer reaches zero, the room will be filled with carbon monoxide. Upon either your success or your failure, the door to the room will be opened. If you fail, your body will be discovered in two days. If you succeed, you will be a free man, and the first survivor of my games. Good luck, Professor Graham.”

There was a soft click as whatever recording came to an end. Will was left with only himself and the sound of his slow breathing.

If he wanted to get out of here, he couldn’t afford to panic. He had to think logically about it all, and use his time wisely.

Will undid the knot carefully as he studied the safes lining the room.

They were each different from each other. None were the same, and he knew he would have to figure out which one he needed first and foremost. He couldn’t waste time trying every combination in every lock, then every key in the timer. He needed to know which one. 

None of them immediately caught his eye as being more important than the others. He knew it wouldn’t likely be in a position that gave itself away. He had to think about what he knew about the man who had put him in here.

It had been clear, even though the man had used something to change the way his voice sounded, that he had a european accent. Something exotic and mixed. He had probably travelled a lot, and was well versed in several languages and cultures. That meant they were probably wealthy to the degree where that kind of travel was not just possible, but a luxury they could take for granted. 

Will closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the mind of this man.

He had heard talk about a new serial killer who hadn’t directly killed a soul. He had heard of stories like this one. No one had escaped yet.

_ There are things in life that are taken for granted. With no one truly appreciating what it is to have what they do, or be where they are. It’s disheartening to see so many abuse their privileges without purpose, or with the purpose of destroying others. _

_ Each person I choose will learn to appreciate what they have. Before they die, they will know what a blessing it is to be alive, and they will know that I am God. _

Will opened his eyes again and looked at each of the safes again.

Now, he knew exactly which one he needed to open. This wasn’t about what the organizer of this room would do. It was all about Will. Whoever had put him in here knew him. They knew Will in some intimate way, and knew what Will would do. He didn’t have to identify the tastes of the killer, because the killer had already identified Will’s.

Will rubbed his wrists where the rope had rubbed a bit. The killer had used a fishing knot. Likely another thing they had done for his benefit.

This room. This trial. It was all tailored to Will. 

“Would you leave my dogs to starve if I fail?” Will wondered aloud, “or have you lined up something for them to be taken care of? I don’t think you’d leave them. They are innocents, even if I’m not.”

Will stood up, hearing the clock begin to count down. He didn’t even glance over his shoulder at it as he walked to the table. He didn’t need to make sure it was there. The man had told him it was, and Will believed him.

The paper didn’t have combinations written on it. Not exactly. 

There were long math problems written out. Six of them. 

If this person knew Will as well as he was sure they did, they would have known that wouldn’t slow him down much. He picked up the paper and brought it over to the last safe on the side wall, nearly in the corner of the room. It was the one with a plain appearance, old, used, and practical. The only ornate thing about it was a small fish printed on the corner. It looked like it could have been bought at a secondhand store. For all Will knew, it had been.

Will figured out the first math problem and turned the dial of the safe slowly to the first number of the answer.

There was no reaction. It was the wrong combination. Will didn’t even need to try the entire series of numbers. He needed to move on to the next possible answer.

Will entered the first number of the second answer, and felt the slight give as the dial recognized the proper first click. Will put in the next one, and nothing happened.

That narrowed it down a bit, at least. 

Will figured out the answers to the other four problems, identifying two that began with the same number as what had first worked. He tried the first of the two out, and it wasn’t correct either. The last one, he clicked in the series of numbers, and the small door swung open. 

Will sighed a breath of relief, having half expected none of the combinations to work. He wouldn’t put it past this man to make the task actually impossible, wanting just to watch the struggle of his victim until they died. 

Will pulled the small key from inside the safe and turned to face the chair he had been sitting in before. He saw the clock behind it, ticking down. He had an hour left. 

There was no way he had taken an entire hour already, meaning the recording had lied. He had started with less than two hours. 

Was that meant to incite panic in him?

Whatever it had been intended for, it didn’t matter much. Will hadn’t looked, and he hadn’t cared.

Will walked over and found the small keyhole just under the clock. He inserted the key, and it turned easily. The numbers stopped counting down, and Will smirked. 

That had been easier than he had expected. If this killer had never had a survivor before, he must have either chosen people who were less educated, panicked easily, or he must have given them more difficult tests. 

“Why did you go so easy on me?” Will mused.

The speaker crackled to life again, drawing Will’s attention.

“Congratulations, Will,” the voice said, “you have won the game. I lied, however, and the door is not yet open for you. There is one more trial you must conquer in order to gain your freedom. The moment you turned that key, I was given a notification letting me know that you are nearly free again. If you do not wish to meet me face to face, you must open the door and escape before I arrive. All the information you need is in the room with you. Good luck.”

Will huffed and folded his arms. He looked over to where a small red light shone, knowing that was where the man would have a camera. A man like this would have to watch his work.

“What if I  _ do _ want to meet you?” he asked, feeling petty for no good reason. He should have been terrified, especially at the thought of being killed by the man himself. Instead, he was just irked. He was ready to get home, and make sure his dogs hadn’t been harmed when he was taken.

It occurred to him, then, that he didn’t remember how he had gotten there. Perhaps the memories would return to him in time.

Will looked at the door, and saw that it had a combination lock, just like the safes. 

The combinations on the paper would not work on it. Will was sure of that. Those were the combinations for the safes only. There would be something else in the room that would tell him what the combination was.

Will walked back over to the safe he had opened and turned it over to look at the bottom.

There was a number engraved on the base.

Will turned all the safes over, and each of them had a number engraved on it. He stood back and surveyed the scene. He knew they wouldn’t be in order already. The man wouldn’t have made it that easy.

Will picked up the paper and looked at it. 

It was worth a shot.

Will tried numbers in each of the locks until he had identified which math problem correlated with which safe. Then, he organized the numbers from the bottom of each safe in order of how their combinations appeared on the paper. 

Will made his way back over and tried it in the lock on the door. There was a soft beep, and the door unlatched. 

“Piece of cake,” Will announced to the room, pushing the door open. 

Will found himself in a back alleyway of a city. It was dark, despite the sunlight that streamed down at an angle from above. There was a metal box, lying on the ground at his feet, and he studied it. He crouched down to look at it better, and found that his name was engraved on the front.

Will flipped the lid open and looked inside.

There was a cheap burner phone inside, and an envelope with his name on it as well. 

Will pocketed the phone and opened the envelope. He could call Jack in a minute, but he needed to know if the man had anything else to tell him. 

_ Dear Will, _

_ Congratulations on being my first survivor. I confess that I expected you to manage it while others have not. In my observations of you, I learned that you are very likely the most intelligent person in any given room, regardless of your company. Despite your great cleverness, you have contented yourself with menial tasks and a low reputation.  _

_ You may not have fully understood my motivation behind giving you these tasks to this point, but I will give you my full confession now. _

_ While my other competitors have been those that have squandered their lives, I had no such quandary with you. I found myself not wishing to trouble you in the same way. I wanted nothing more than to have your intelligence be recognized by others. Being the first, and quite possibly only, survivor of my games, you can expect to be given much more attention from those who had not before known you deserved it.  _

_ Upon the door opening, I was notified, so there is no use in asking your friends in the FBI to wait around for me to appear. Something for your consideration, so as to not waste any time in the investigation. _

_ I am exceptionally pleased to hear you have survived, because I would have found it a great loss if you had died in my game. This is the first of any game that I have had such a desire for either outcome. _

_ Regards, _

In the place of a signature, there was a hand drawn illustration of a crown. It was the symbol for the black king in chess. Will knew the same symbol had been found at some of the previous crime scenes, either on or near the body of whoever had died in one of the games. It was the calling card of the man.

The letter was actually written by hand, which surprised Will. Handwriting samples could be incriminating, and he hadn’t thought the man would take that kind of risk. Everything up to that point had been typed and printed. This was written, and Will understood the man had wanted it to be more personal. Something so intimate simply could not be typed or printed. It deserved to be done by hand.

Will folded the paper back up and slid it into the envelope. He pulled the phone back out and dialed Jack Crawford.

After two rings, the phone was picked up, and Jack’s booming voice carried through.

“Hello.”

“Jack. It’s Will.”

“Will. You didn’t show up for your lectures today. What on earth is going on with you? I don’t suppose you’re calling because you decided to help with the game master case.”

Will sighed, looking back through the door at the room he had just escaped.

“I can answer all those questions, but it’s better if I do it in person,” he said, “and you’re gonna want to come meet me here. It’s something you’ll want to see. Track this phone. I don’t know where I am.”

There was a pause, in which Will could almost hear the gears in Jack’s head whirring. He heard Jack talk to someone quickly, asking for the call to be traced. 

“Will. Does this have anything to do with the Game Master?” Jack asked.

Will huffed a laugh and leaned against the doorframe.

“Something like that. You have the trace going?”

“Of course. You’re close. What on earth happened?” Jack replied.

“I’ll explain everything once you’re here. Bring the whole team if you can get them. This is a real sight.”


	2. 2

“So, you somehow managed to figure out what all this meant, and escaped the Game Master’s freakshow room?” Jack demanded, sounding upset.

Will shrugged. He handed the letter to Jack and watched as the entire room was processed. Beverly, Price, and Zeller were tiptoeing as fast as they could through the entire room, trying to catalogue everything as fast as they could. This was either their dream come true, or their worst nightmare. 

“I have the sinking feeling he went easy on me,” Will replied, “he wanted me to get out. He wanted me to win, so I could tell you about it. He’s proud of his work, and he wants  _ someone _ to appreciate it. He thinks I’ll appreciate it, especially now that I’ve been through it. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, Jack.”

Jack huffed in agreement. 

“It’s disgusting,” he said, “How can anyone be sick enough to do something like this?”

Will didn’t answer. He didn’t trust himself to. In truth, he  _ did _ appreciate it. He could feel the pride the man felt in his work, and it was well earned. He had thought of everything, and executed his vision with perfection. Will couldn’t keep himself from admiring it.

In the back of his mind, Will wondered if a part of the man had lingered from when he had slipped into his head in order to solve the riddle.

“He’s teaching them,” Will said, “the victims. They take their lives for granted, or they squander what they’ve got. He’s taking everything away from them in order to make them realize how good they have it. If anyone else had survived, they would have a new appreciation for life.”

Jack frowned. 

“Almost sounds like you understand the guy,” he said, a warning in his tone.

Will sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“I do understand him, Jack,” he admitted, “I can understand anybody. You should know that, with how hard you’ve been working to get me on a case. Why did you want me if you didn’t know about that?”

Jack furrowed his brow.

“I was told you were a gifted profiler, and I already knew you were clever. No one else could make heads or tails of this guy. I wanted to cover my bases.”

Will shrugged.

“Well, there you have it. The reason I’m such a “gifted profiler”, is because I can think like anybody. I can get into their heads, and know what they are thinking. Now you know. The next question is, what are you going to do about it?”

The answer, of course, was that Jack was going to have Will work the case. Whether Will wanted to or not, he was now part of the team. Jack had him look at evidence, read reports, and listen to the recordings found at a few of the scenes.

With every word Will heard from the man, through speakers of varying sizes, Will learned more about the man, and found himself understanding him more. It was frightening, but Will admired the work put into everything. Each scene was tailored for the victim, and none were the same. 

All of it required not only a keen mind and technical skill, but an artistic and judicial eye. The man was able to create all of this and set it in motion, as well as determine which individuals truly didn’t appreciate what they had. 

Will believed whole-heartedly that the man chose only people who really took their lives for granted. There was no room for error in his design, and he would choose his victims carefully.

These were the kinds of things Will could never voice to Jack. The man already thought he was strange and potentially unstable. Saying he agreed with the killer, to whatever degree, would only get himself saddled with a psychiatrist that would dig through his head and move all the furniture around. 

Will did not want that.

“Jack, you’re not going to like what I’m thinking you need to know,” Will said in warning, after having his head filled to bursting with every bit of information they had on the deaths.

Jack raised his eyebrows in an expression showing exactly how unhappy he already was, just at the idea of hearing it. 

“What do I need to know?” he asked.

Will sighed, wishing he was anywhere but here. He would even rather be back in that room with a timer determining how long he would be allowed to live. It had been better than giving Jack bad news.

“This guy is killing people outside of his game rooms,” Will said, “he’s not just teaching people to appreciate the life they have. He’s killing more people than we know of.”

Predictably, Jack was not pleased. 

“This psychopath is killing people, and we don’t even know about them?” he demanded.

Will wanted to roll his eyes. He refrained.

“Yeah. The way he thinks, the way he is. It’s just not conducive to the kind of actions we’re seeing. Not on their own. He kills because he likes it, and he does it without needing the publicity of all the games. He plays games with people for his own amusement. Not only to watch them struggle to earn the life they were wasting, but also to see people like you struggle to figure out who he is.”

Jack was basically fuming. He stood up and began pacing, angry and full of energy.

“You’re saying this freak kills people for fun, and watches us all running around to catch him for the same reason?” he demanded.

Jack tended to ask questions that were redundant, and Will decided not to answer. He didn’t want to encourage the useless stream of questions by answering all of them. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“Alright,” Jack said with a sigh, “How do we catch him?”

That was what Will was wondering. There were a few little things that were consistent between the games, but he didn’t know how they would help the investigation.

“There’s going to be a few things that are always the same between his kills. Some signal or calling card between them, connecting the game room kills to his others. It might not be obvious at first. Something small, or unnoticeable. A soft signature.”

Jack scratched at his chin thoughtfully.

“Then I’ll get you the files for every case that could possibly be connected,” he decided, “if we haven’t connected them yet, I’m not going to take any chances. I need you to tell me the moment you find anything.”

Will nodded, and his mind was already racing with the possibilities. This was an even more thrilling game than when his own life had been on the line. He would sort through deaths and killings, soaking in every detail, until all the pieces clicked together. Until the stars came together into constellations and stories. 

Will had the feeling that if he were hooked up to a heart monitor just then, his pulse would be elevated. His blood was running hot just at the idea of the game. 

This was why he had kept a low profile all these years. The thrill of the chase was too alluring, and he had decided to never allow himself to indulge. Being thrown into it might just be his undoing.

“If there’s anything to find, you’ll be the first one I go to,” Will promised, “and I’m sure there’s something. I just don’t know what to expect.”

It was the honest truth, too. He didn’t know what the killer would leave behind, but Will was going to follow the breadcrumb trail like a starving racoon. He had gotten a taste of the other side, and now he was drinking it in as if it were air and he had been drowning.

“I had better be,” Jack agreed gruffly, “and whatever there is, I expect you to find it.”

Will nodded again, feeling like he was slowly becoming someone else, and not sure what to do about it. He didn’t know what was going to happen from this point on, but it was going to be so much more exciting than anything he had done for years. 

The chase had begun, and Will didn’t know who was predator or prey. Only that the hunt would end in blood.

\---

Now,  _ there _ was something. 

Will read through what felt like the hundredth case file, and this one actually had something. 

Will looked at the pictures, feeling the twisted sensation of pleasure at their horrific beauty. 

It was a recreation of Chloris and Zephyr from the Primavera. 

It was like a written confession, as far as Will was concerned. The attention to detail and perfect positioning of every small and intricate thing. It was the same person that had placed him in a room with only one line of action that would allow him to escape alive. 

Every detail was as good as a signature.

“Here it is,” Will said, tossing the file onto Jack’s desk, “that’s him. The so-called “Game Master” killed these two people, and recreated a painting with their bodies.”

Jack frowned and opened the file. He looked over the pictures carefully before he spoke.

“What sort of painting is this?” Jack asked.

“It’s the Primavera,” Will answered, “or Spring. It’s a Botticelli. It’s in the Uffizi gallery in Florence as far as I know. That’s Chloris, a nymph, and Zephyrus. Why this painting? Well, clearly whoever it is is well travelled, particularly in Europe. They probably saw this painting in person, standing in the same room as it. Something in it spoke to him, and so he recreated it in flesh.”

“It almost sounds like you admire him,” Jack warned.

Will pressed his lips together.

“In order to overcome something, you have to understand what a perfect machine it is,” he defended, “It’s how you fight disease. I’m just recognizing the organism as nature created it, so I can learn its patterns and find its weaknesses.”

Jack seemed to accept that as an answer, looking through the file more thoroughly.

“So, what gave him away here?” Jack asked distractedly.

Will shrugged.

“Everything. The attention to detail. I’ve never seen another killer who is as aware of every part of their work as this one. I knew that while I was still in the room, working my way out. I saw the same thing when I looked at this. He prides himself in his control. Even if we were to find the guy, he would have perfect control over himself. He wouldn’t give us anything we didn’t already have. If we catch him, we have to have a solid case, or he’ll get away.”

Jack stared at Will as if he contained the answers to every question in the universe, and all he needed was a nutcracker big enough to fit around his skull.

“So, we have to gather evidence, and wait for the right time to make our move, after we figure out who we’re hunting.”

Will nodded.

“As long as we make sure he’s the one being hunted,” Will agreed, “and not _us_.”


	3. 3

_ “Good morning, Doctor Gideon. For your whole life, you have taken advantage of your position as a man beyond suspicion. Having recently escaped a rightful conviction, due to nothing more than a clerical error, one would expect you to be more grateful. However, I have found you to be lacking in appreciation for your life and the lives of others. By the end of the day, you will either have a renewed attitude towards the life you have been given, or you will be dead. The decision is up to you. _

_ How much do you really want to live?” _

\---

“Abel Gideon. He was recently convicted of medical malpractice, but the prosecution made a mistake on some of the paperwork, leaving their case void,” Jack read aloud as Will looked over the scene, “His wife reported him missing yesterday afternoon. Some teenager walked in on  _ this  _ when they noticed the door was unlocked and thought it would be a good place to smoke without being seen.”

Will looked around, feeling that secret admiration trickling through his veins again. 

There were five bodies in total. The highest count of any of the scenes to this point. In each corner of the room was a chain, obviously meant to keep someone there. They each had a padlock, and three of them had been unlocked. One person still remained in their corner, curled up on themselves. They were dead.

The other three were near the center, where Abel was. 

Abel Gideon was in a cage. Bars surrounding him and keeping him from moving farther than four feet in any direction. He had with him a knife and a small tape player, with a key on a string around his neck. He had clearly used the knife to kill the three others. The blood was all over him, and their organs had spilled out. He had died while gripping the bars and facing the one remaining other person in the room. 

“This was a test,” Will said, “for him to show whether or not he actually valued the lives of others, even just as tools for his own purposes.”

Will walked around the cage, studying it carefully. The team worked around him, doing their best not to bother him or get in his way while also doing their job. At some later time, Will would think about how he was probably making their jobs harder.

“If he wanted to get out, he couldn’t kill any of them,” Will continued, “look at the cage. It needed two people to turn keys at the same time as two others lifted the door. It was designed so he would have to let the others live if he wanted to. Clearly, the Game Master knew something about him we didn’t. He was doomed to die the moment he killed the first person.”

Will looked around a bit more, and saw that the person in the corner hadn’t removed the chain, unlike the others. There was a key on the floor, just out of their reach. 

“Abel had all the keys for the chains at the beginning,” Will said, “he had to give them to the other prisoners in order for them to get up to help him. He has the key to the door, too. He could have let the others escape, but he would have to let them leave him behind. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.”

Will closed his eyes and let himself see everything play out.

Gideon tossed the keys to the first person, one who had shown him their own key. That key must belong to the cage. He wanted them to get out so they could give him their key. Once they found the key that went to their chain, they tossed the rest of the keys to the next person and walked over to the cage.

As the next prisoner unchained themselves, the first walked up to where Gideon stood. They tried to make a deal. They tried to trade their key for his. He had killed them when they came close enough. The next person tossed their keys to the prisoner on the other end of the room. One fell short, leaving them to try only one key in their lock. It hadn’t worked, so they had tossed it to the last prisoner. The last prisoner had promised to give them the key once they were free.

The second freed person approached Gideon, careful not to walk too close and be caught by him. They looked at the cage carefully, and realized immediately that it would take four people just to open it. They became angry with Gideon, and spent a few minutes shouting at him for being foolish before they accidentally strayed within his reach and were gutted as well.

The last two were helplessly watching as their companions fell. The one who had managed to free themselves saw that they were running out of time. They tried to reason with Gideon, forgetting to give the key to their companion. They tried to explain that they would get help once they made it out, and would be able to free him soon after. He just had to give them the key.

The still chained prisoner had begged someone to give them the key, but their voice went unheard. 

Gideon agreed to give the other the key, but only lured them close enough to kill them as well. If he was going to die, he would take the rest of them down with him.

That had left Gideon and the other prisoner alone, with no way for either of them to get out. Gideon had spoken to the other, but he had not felt any remorse. He did not regret killing the others, perhaps aside from the fact that it meant he was still trapped.

“We figured out who Gideon is by the recording he has in the player,” Jack explained, “but we still don’t know who these others are. We’ll find that out after they get to the lab.”

“Well, they are all going to be people who the killer thinks needed to learn to appreciate life more,” Will said, “this reminds me of a game one of my teachers made us play in high school. In theory, it would be easy to win. All you had to do was have all the students in class choose the same answer. There were three possible answers, but everyone knew what the right answer was. The reason no class ever won was because it required everyone to trust all the other students. If one or two people answered a certain way, they would take the reward all for themselves, stealing it from the rest of the students. If even one person answered the third and final way, the reward would be less, but everyone would still get it. People would answer that way if they didn’t trust the other students not to answer the second way.”

“He never had a class win. There were always some that betrayed the rest, and/or some that knew others would betray them.”

Jack didn’t look like he was really listening. He was just staring at Gideon.

“Gideon was  _ both _ of the unfortunate options,” Will continued, “he was both the betrayer, and the one who didn’t trust the others not to betray him. If he had valued the lives of others more than his own, he would have let them go, given them the key, and trusted that they would bring help back. Because of his selfish decision, they all died.”

“The killer really knows how to pick them,” Jack grumbled.

Will scoffed.

“Try not to forget that he picked  _ me _ , Jack,” Will said.

Jack took a sharp breath in.

“Right. I suppose he made a mistake there, if he just wants all his victims to die.”

Will didn’t bother arguing. That was the closest he was going to get to an apology from Jack, even if it was completely ridiculous.

The killer  _ hadn’t _ wanted Will to die. They all knew that by now. He had said as much in his letter. He hadn’t made a mistake, either. He had  _ wanted _ Will to make it out. He wanted Will to be on the case, now, and seeing all the other rooms he had built. He liked Will, in whatever capacity. He didn’t make mistakes. At least he hadn’t yet.

“My profile is going to be all well and good, Jack,” Will said, “but it’s not going to help any if we don’t have a suspect to compare it to.”

Jack hummed in agreement, though it didn’t really seem like he was paying attention to what Will was saying. The team bagged and tagged everything, checking and double checking that they were getting absolutely everything. When they had no evidence to help identify the killer, everything counted.

\---

“So, the killer who never directly kills his victims, actually does?” Jack wondered aloud.

Will shrugged.

“ _These_ aren’t  his victims,” he replied, waving at the stack of Game Master deaths, “at least he doesn’t consider them to be. All of them would still be alive if they had been smart enough, or if they hadn’t deserved to be put into his games in the first place. His  _ victims _ are the ones we don’t know about. There’s something about them that would tell us more than these games can. The games are more for our benefit than his. He likes to show off. The other kills are for himself. Whatever he does with those people, that’s what he doesn’t want us to know.”

Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was clearly getting tired, and Will couldn’t blame him. Will hadn’t been on the case nearly as long as Jack had, but he was starting to feel the drag of not making progress. They had a finite amount of information, and Will could only make it stretch so far.

“Is there anything you can give me to narrow down the pool of suspects?” Jack asked.

Will sighed. He didn’t want to tell Jack this, because there were a lot of problems attached to it, but he knew he needed to give the man something.

“He’s upper class. Wealthy. He has travelled a lot around Europe, and that’s not something he sees as unusual. It’s taken for granted. He’s going to associate with other people who have the means to do that kind of thing. He probably dresses well, speaks well, eats well, et cetera. In essence, he has good taste. I’d be on the lookout at operas and galas. Social functions for the well off.”

Jack considered that, and he was clearly unsure how to feel about it.

“That poses a few obstacles for me,” he said.

Will nodded.

“I know. It can cause a lot of problems if you go poking around in those circles. I have a suggestion, but you’re not going to like it.”

Jack looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m listening.”

Will took a deep breath and readied himself.

“Team up with Freddie Lounds,” he said.

Will could see Jack getting ready to react to it, so he held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

“Hear me out,” he said, letting Jack calm down for a moment before he continued, “people expect  _ her _ to be digging around where she shouldn’t be. She keeps her sources close to her chest for the most part, meaning she’s not going to go telling everyone that the FBI is the one giving her information and asking her to get more. She’s good at finding out things she really has no business knowing. If you deal with her the right way, you can get more out of her than she gets out of you, and she’ll be satisfied.”

Jack pressed his lips together, and didn’t immediately try to shoot the idea down. That meant he was actually considering it this time, which had been Will’s hope.

“Alright,” Jack said at last, “I’ll see what we can do. I want you working on this every second you are awake, though. This is the most progress we’ve made since the case opened, and I need you to keep your head in the game.”

Will nodded.

“Don’t worry, Jack. Every moment I’m awake, and most of the time while I’m asleep, this case is the only thing I’ll be able to think about,” he said wryly.

Jack nodded.

“Good.”


	4. 4

Will woke in a cold sweat, shivering despite the muggy air around him. 

He hadn’t been lying when he said the killer would follow him into his sleep. His nights were more often than not filled with nightmares now. It had been years since he had been so affected by a case, and he wasn’t used to having the nightmares so frequently. 

Will stripped off his soaked shirt and ran his hand through his dripping hair. His skin felt cold, but his core was overheated. A new sweat broke over his skin, and he shivered. 

Cursing under his breath, Will rolled off the bed. The dogs roused at his movement, but Will waved them down. He pulled on some dry clothes, deciding he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anymore that day. It was four in the morning, but he started getting ready for the day. He had a few lectures he still needed to finish preparations for.

Even if Jack would prefer it, Will was not going to drop his usual job as a teacher to focus on the Game Master. That would only be letting the killer win, as well as letting Jack win. Neither of those things were ideas Will was comfortable with entertaining. 

Will worked by the light of one desk lamp, trying not to make the dogs too excited before the sun even came up. Winston trotted over and settled at his feet, but the rest of them were content to lay in their beds for the time. 

\---

“The Hippocratic oath. Do no harm.  _ This _ is what Abel Gideon would have to do in order to survive. Being a Doctor, one would expect him to find that second nature. The Game Master knew something about him that very few others did. Abel Gideon was a killer.”

The students were listening intently. Will knew most of them thought  _ they _ would be the one to make a connection that caught the Game Master. The rest thought they knew who it would be, whether it be one of their classmates or one of the agents actually on the case.

“Abel Gideon had been recently acquitted on a count of negligent homicide after one of his patients died,” Will continued, “most of those involved came away from the case _ knowing _ he was guilty, but a mistake on the paperwork made the prosecution’s case overturn. After his death, it was discovered that Gideon was not only a bad surgeon, but that he had also killed enough others to earn himself the title of serial killer. Whether he was clever enough not to be caught, or we didn’t do our jobs well enough and missed him, he was a free man. No one knew exactly what he was. That is, except for the Game Master.”

Will looked around the room, not making eye contact with any of the students directly. He could tell which of them were actually hearing what he was saying, and who were just processing the information long enough to put it on paper. 

“Now, the Game Master didn’t put Gideon in the game room  _ because _ he was a killer,” Will explained, “he doesn’t care if you kill others. That much is obvious. The crime Gideon was guilty of, in the Game Master’s eyes, is ungratefulness. Gideon had a family. He had a well paying job, and a good reputation. He took it all for granted. Maybe he was selfish, or unsatisfied with his lot in life. Something about him _ irked _ the Game Master, making him believe Gideon deserved to be taught a lesson. The Game Master would teach him the practical application of the oath he had taken when he became a doctor. In his refusal to be teachable, Gideon sentenced himself and his companions to death. It would only have taken one of them escaping in order for them all to survive. Gideon valued his life above the others, and so he brought them down with him.”

Will could see the different ways the students felt about the whole thing. He could see those that were fascinated by it, soaking it all in and trying to force their minds to work the way his did so they could see the connections as he. He could see those that were disgusted by it all, by Gideon’s actions as well as those of the Game Master. He could see those who were indifferent, not allowing their emotions to cloud their thoughts.

Each of them would serve their own purpose in the FBI. No one way of thinking was superior, and it was always beneficial to have a team of people who all thought differently from one another, regardless of the difficulties it may cause.

“Does this all make the Game Master some sort of vigilante?” Will asked, “no. As we know, he doesn’t choose his victims based on their criminal activity. There have been many innocent people that have been put through his death games. But where does that leave us? What can we make of the evidence we have, and how can we use it? I want you to tell me what you think, in as much detail as possible. You have a week.”

Will clicked off the projector and ducked his head to sort through some papers as the students packed up and filed out. Most of them knew better than to try talking to him in person, but there were still a few that hadn’t got the message. He never knew quite when they would decide to walk up.

He was almost out of the woods when a pair of familiar feet walked right up and stopped just in front of him.

“How have you been, Will?”

Will glanced up and managed to give Alana Bloom a polite smile. It fell short of friendly, but it hopefully hadn’t looked too painful or off-putting.

“About as well as can be expected,” He replied, “what brings you here? You wouldn’t come all this way just to ask me that.”

Alana tipped her head in the way she did when she was concerned, but wanted to play it off as curious.

“Jack told me what happened. He said you agreed to work the case after you escaped. I wanted to make sure you are still capable of making that decision.”

Will huffed, but managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 

“I’m perfectly mentally sound,” he said, “or at least I’m just as mentally sound as I was  _ before _ the whole kidnapping, murder game, escape room thing happened. Jack didn’t ask you to come, did he?”

Alana pursed her lips and hesitated answering. She was always very careful with Will, as if he were liable to break at any moment. It made him irritated at times, but he understood why she did it.

“No. In fact, he warned me off you. He said you’re  _ finally _ acting like a member of the FBI, and he didn’t want me showing up to fix you,” she admitted.

Will huffed a soft laugh.

“Yeah. Sounds like him. You can always count on Jack to take advantage of the inconveniences of others. Why did you decide to come anyway?”

Alana smiled reassuringly, as if what she was about to say might sound offensive or disrespectful.

“Because I didn’t want you to be alone,” she said, “I know that Jack is going to ask you to go into dark places, and I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have anyone on your side. I’m on your side, and I want you to know that.”

Will nodded.

“That makes two of you,” he said wryly, “you and the Game Master. He’s on my side too, as much as he’s able.”

Alana frowned in confusion, biting her lower lip softly. She didn’t know it, but it made her look extremely kissable.

“What do you mean by that?” She asked.

Will shrugged and once again set about organizing his desk.

“He didn’t want me to die, or even really suffer. He wanted me to be  _ noticed _ . He wanted me to be put on the case, because he respects me. In whatever capacity he’s able, he likes me. I have a feeling he’s going to be leaving clues for  _ me _ , and the only way we will ever catch him is if I’m on the case. In that vein, Jack’s right. I need to help.”

Alana sighed, and it sounded just about as close to despair as Will thought she would allow herself while also trying to be professional. 

“Will, I think you’re getting too close. I think you’re letting yourself get wrapped up in this guy’s head, and it’s not good for you,” she said, her tone sincerely fearful on his behalf.

Will laughed wryly.

“ _ Of course _ I’m too wrapped up in him, Alana,” he said, “I had to do that in order to escape his game room. I was too wrapped up in him before I agreed to work the case. There’s no going back now. Once we catch him, I might be able to start untangling myself, but until then the choices are I either help to catch him, or I let more people die when I could have saved them.”

Alana looked down at her shoes, clearly realizing the situation Will was in. She wouldn’t be able to tell him in good conscience to stop working the case, but she felt obligated to do just that because she wanted to protect him. 

“Please promise me you’ll be careful,” she said softly after a moment. 

Will sighed, studying Alana for a breath. She cared too much. It was her curse as much as imagination was his. She couldn’t bring herself to be apathetic towards anyone or anything. It made her all the more beautiful, but the same way a flower was. Delicate.

“I’ll do my best,” he offered, “but I think we both know that doesn’t guarantee anything.”

Alana nodded sadly.

“Just come back when it’s all over,” she said, turning to leave.

Will watched her go, wishing he could promise her what she wanted. He wished he could tell her what she needed to hear. He wished he could be the person she thought he was, instead of whatever he felt coiled in his chest, waiting to be set free.


End file.
